


"You Heard Me.  Take. It. Off."

by myloveiamthespeedofsound



Series: Wherever I Go (I'll Be Looking For You) [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:08:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myloveiamthespeedofsound/pseuds/myloveiamthespeedofsound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a tumblr prompt - “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	"You Heard Me.  Take. It. Off."

“I got it,” Wanda assured Steve as he hovered over her and Bucky in the back of the jet.  She held Steve’s gaze as her hand pressed into Bucky’s side and she steeled her expression to not let it show just  _ how _ much the flow of warm blood over her fingers worried her.  “Just get us out of here, Steve,” she all but snapped because if they couldn’t get Bucky to proper medical attention… well… she didn’t want to think about.  Steve lingered as he stared at Bucky’s pale face, at the red that flowed over Wanda’s hand.  “Steve!” Wanda repeated forcibly.  Steve nodded and stumbled back toward the cockpit.     
  
“Stay with me, James,” she said softly as she caught Bucky’s eyes.  His were wide, frantic almost and she forced herself to remain calm.  “You’re going to be okay,” she assured, and she wasn’t sure if she meant it more to him or to herself.  He  _ had _ to be okay.  She wasn’t going to lose him.     
  
“Wanda..” Bucky croaked out and reached a hand up to touch her face.  “Not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he tried to smirk at that, but it fell a little short.    
  
“Shut up,” she ordered. “Save your breath,” and tried to give a little smirk of her own.  Her hand lifted and she frowned.  “I need to get this shirt off of you,” she mused and glanced over to where a first aid kit was just out of reach.  She raised her free hand, gave it a flick and the kit flew across the jet toward them and she kept one hand on Bucky’s side as she worked the lid open.  She fished out the scissors and caught Bucky’s gaze as she heard him grunt a noise of protest.     
  
“No, Wanda, don’t,” he mumbled, his breath heaved with every word.  His eyes panicked at the thought of her cutting off his shirt.  His mind clouded by the pain, by the stress of the situation and all his usual coping strategies out the window.     
  
Wanda paused, the scissors just inches from the fabric. Suddenly she realized his cause for concern.  She had never seen him before.  She had never seen the damage caused by having his arm ripped and replaced with the metal one he wore now.  While they were  _ together _ \- it hadn’t moved past meaningful glances, tentative touches and gentle kisses goodnight.  She dropped the scissors, leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.  She pulled back and held his gaze.  “I do not care, James,” she stated and then moved to cut a line up the shirt.    
  
She pushed it open, over the marred flesh where it met metal, enough so that she could see the slice along his ribcage.  Enough so that she could feel her heart sink into her chest at the damage and she shouted to Steve, “please tell me we are close!”   
  
Her hands moved quickly,  _ danced, _ as she willed over her street clothes from the other side of the jet.  She balled up the skirt and pressed it hard to Bucky’s wound.  “Sorry…” she muttered as he groaned in pain.  Quiet - well, as quiet as the world got in the back of a jet with someone panting in pain - settled between them.  Wanda chewed at her lower lip and did something she had not done in a long while.  She prayed.    
  
Two days in medical and Bucky was given an all clear.  His first stop was Wanda’s room where the meaningful glances, the tentative touches, and gentle kisses goodnight were tossed out the window.  Replaced with the  _ want _ and  _ need _ they had been holding at bay.  Spurred by the emotion of his injury.     
  
“Take it off,” Wanda urged as her hand tugged at the neck of his shirt, her lips pressed to his as she spoke.  Bucky hesitated.  Hands paused at the hem of the garment and met her gaze.  “I do not care,” she reminded him.  “Now you heard me.  Take. It. Off.” she added with a coy smile and he obliged.  


End file.
